


Pabulum

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Series: Sportsfest 2018 [26]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Allusions to Sexual Shenanigans, Established Relationship, M/M, Old Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 13:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15931685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: Their tenth anniversary celebration isn't anything to write home about, but Issei loves it just the same because he gets to do that nothing-in-particular with his favorite person.





	Pabulum

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Sportsfest 2018 bonus round 1.

Issei looks around the izakaya, the one they frequently haunt because it’s only a block away from their apartment, and he smiles. It’s not the classiest place in the world, but it’s special because it’s their favorite. 

It’s been almost fifteen years since they got out of high school, and ten since they tied the knot. Ten years exactly, actually. So they’re spending their anniversary at a diner, but who cares where it is as long as it’s together?

“Whatcha thinking?” Takahiro asks, propping his chin on his hand. “Don’t think too hard, or you’ll tire yourself out and go to sleep before I can have my way with you later.”

In the next booth over, Issei hears someone spit their drink back into their cup and cough, and he chuckles. “Don’t worry. I saved up just for the occasion. You wouldn’t believe how many people I had to ask what two plus two was at work this week.”

Takahiro gives him a toothy smirk. “You really know how to sweep a guy off his feet, Issei.” He takes a long drag off of his soda and hums in pleasure. “God I love this place.”

“Yeah.” Issei’s breath catches in his chest when he sees Takahiro’s pure joy from simple food. “I love it, too.”

Takahiro’s brows raise. “You thought something really soupy and gross just now, didn’t you?”

“Busted.” Issei sighs and enjoys the moment while Takahiro plows through almost an entire bowl of edamame by himself. 

They’ve been together for almost half their lives, yet he can’t actually remember what existing was like before he met the most important person in his entire world back in high school. Since then, there’s little they haven’t done together. Sleeping, eating, sex, taxes — they share it all.

So today is a little extra special. They may be eating the same kushiage they have every time they come here, but it tastes just that much better when he gets to watch Takahiro eat with one in each hand and air drum with the leftover skewers.

They share a dessert and walk home arm in arm, steps light as they stroll through the smattering of snow starting to fall on the cool November night. 

Beside him, Takahiro darts out his tongue to snare stray flakes. Issei chuckles, snatching them out of the air with his fingers before they can reach. “No fair!” Takahiro whines. “Stop being taller than me, you beautiful bastard.”

“Yes, dear.” Issei bumps their shoulders together and chortles. “Don’t get too mad. I picked up that thing you wanted to try.”

Takahiro’s eyes widen. “You mean the —”

“Yep.” And Issei can’t wait to get home to try it out.

Two hours later, they’re both sweaty and exhausted, and Issei’s cheerleader uniform is probably filthy beyond what a wash can solve, but damn it all if he isn’t happy about it. Rolling over, he pecks Takahiro on the cheek and murmurs, “Happy anniversary, babe.”

**Author's Note:**

> In case you were wondering...
> 
> pabulum  
> [PAB-yuh-luh m]  
> noun  
> -something that nourishes an animal or vegetable organism; food; nutriment.  
> -material for intellectual nourishment.
> 
> Also, an izakaya is a lowkey casual diner-esque type restaurant, which usually touts low prices and tasty comfort food. It's the type of place people might meet up at after work for some low pressure fun.


End file.
